


High School Misfits

by BekkaChaos



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Blow Jobs, Boys Kissing, Gen, High School AU, M/M, Secret Relationship, Slow Build Love Story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-26 05:07:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4991371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BekkaChaos/pseuds/BekkaChaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i><b>High School AU:</b> Ian and Mickey are seniors at high school, Ian is a sports star and Mickey is a misfit who likes to hang out under the bleachers and smoke with Mandy and Karen. Not really a perfect match but maybe things that aren't perfect are the ones that work best.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Day Blues

If you think high school was hard enough, try being an impoverished, unmotivated teenager of average intelligence trying to navigate your way through it on the mean streets of South Side Chicago. Then try adding a shit-show family, teachers who think you aren’t worth shit, and for Mickey Milkovich, the complete and utter inconvenience of being gay.

It’s not like he’s officially ‘ _out_ ’, but concealing it in a neighbourhood like his was just as bad. Fag-bashing was basically a sport.

So he kept it a secret, he didn’t act on it any more than fantasising about guys at night when he jacked himself off.

It took a lot of effort just to get through school, it’s not like his dad gave a shit if he graduated and maybe that was why he kept going. Either way, school was a bore, but in some ways it was a release.

It was the first day of his senior year and he was already out and walking towards the school. He could hear his sister Mandy calling to him as she ran to catch up but he was in too bad a mood to wait for her.

“Hey! Hey I’m _talking to you asshole_!” she yelled before she was grabbing his arm as she caught him. “What fucking gives, you were supposed to wait for me?”

“I’m not gonna stand around and get fucking screamed at while I wait for you to haul your ass into some skinny fucking jeans,” he said.

He had his hands shoved into his pockets and his brow set in a hard line as he stared out at the path ahead.

“Dad’s on your back huh?” she asked.

“It’s a day that ends with a ‘ _y_ ’ so what do you think?”

“You should really tell him to go fuck himself,” she said.

“Did, he broke my fucking nose, remember?” he said, raising an eyebrow at her.

“So quit school and get a job so you can move out of his house,” she said. “Then I can come live with you and―”

“What? Live happily ever after?” he asked.

“Sure, just as soon as we each find ourselves a Prince Charming.”

Mickey hadn’t intended to tell Mandy about his preferences, he wasn’t even entirely sure he ever _told_ her he was gay. She just picked up on things and then one day found a picture Mickey had torn out of a magazine and stashed in his room. He may never have actually told her, but he never denied it either.

“Seriously? It’s the first day of fucking school, I already feel like unloading my guts on the pavement, don’t make it worse,” he said.

“Alright, okay, _sorry_ ,” she said. “I’ll come live with you and that’ll be the end of it.”

“Better,” he muttered.

Mandy was one of only two people who knew Mickey was into guys. The other person was the third miscreant addition to their misfit army.

“Turn down here, we’ve got to stop at Karen’s,” she said.

“What? Excuse me? No, why can’t she fucking meet us, her place is out of the way,” Mickey complained as Mandy looped her arm through his and dragged him down the road.

“You really care about being on time for class?” she asked. “Come on, it’s like five extra minutes.

Karen was probably Mandy’s closest friend, and that was saying a lot considering up until her sophomore year she never really had _any_ female friends. The two of them were so fucking similar though, made it easier for them to get along.

They were both juniors, and if Mickey gave half a shit about the status quo he would probably spend his lunchtimes alone rather than hanging out with either of them. It wouldn’t matter what he did though, he was at the bottom of the food chain and it was more fun smoking under the bleachers with the two of them than it was brooding alone the entire time.

You would never catch him admitting that he actually considered them his friends.

Mandy didn’t have to tell Karen about Mickey, she figured it out herself. If it wasn’t the fact that Mickey spent half his time staring out at the meatheads playing football on the field at lunch, it was the fact that they spent twenty minutes dry humping on the dancefloor at a party the year before and his dick barely even moved.

She asked Mandy first, and when she neither confirmed nor denied it, she tested the theory and just casually threw it out there. If he was honest, Mickey liked that they knew about him. Being with the two of them was the only time he could be closer to who he wanted to be.

“I’ll be back after school mom!” Karen called as she ran down the porch steps, grinning as she jogged towards them.

Mandy opened her arms with a grin and the two of them shared a hug while Mickey just rolled his eyes.

“You saw one another like two days ago, is this really fucking necessary?” he said and Karen let go of Mandy to wrap her arms around Mickey and kiss his cheek loudly.

He kept his hands in his pockets and pulled an unimpressed face as she did.

“You’re _extra_ grumpy this morning, your dad?” she said, letting go so they could turn back in the right direction.

He groaned exorbitantly and started walking ahead. Mandy and Karen just smiled at one another, linking arms as they walked.

“Are we going to have to torment the shit out of him all the way to school?” she asked and Mandy laughed.

“Probably, he is grumpier than usual, and that’s _saying_ something.”

“I can still hear you two bitches!”

“You call us bitches when you’re the one bitching!” Karen called. “Jesus, he’s really in a bad mood today.”

“It’s actually one of his better ‘first day of school’ moods, we should probably be grateful.”

“Speaking of grateful, I’ve got some good stuff we can light up during lunch hour. So long as we share a joint we should be okay to go to the last few classes,” Karen said. “It’s not like we learn anything anyway.”

“Only because the teachers think we’re fucking morons.”

“You two better not get your asses buzzed without me!” Mickey called.

“This is why he spends time with us, he just wants to get high,” Karen said with a smile.

They made it to school barely before the bell, and after that they were still late to class like always.

It might have been his senior year but it felt like every other. He was handed his schedule, some of the teachers scoffed when they saw him in their classes, no one expected anything of him.

By lunch he was already over the whole damn year and he decided to skip the next class with Karen and Mandy.

“Who says I even need a fucking diploma anyway?” he said, taking the blunt from Karen and staring out from his spot under the bleachers. “I can already tell you what I’m gonna end up doing, manual fucking labour.”

“Is that you talking or Professor Dick-wit from your bio class talking?” Karen asked, lying on the ground and propping herself up on her elbows.

“He can _suck_ my dick, fucking asshole,” Mickey said.

“Gross, no, you can do better than him,” Mandy said and Karen just laughed.

“Jesus, not fucking literally,” he said, shaking his head as the track team headed out to practice.

There was a new addition this year, Mickey thought he was exclusive to the school’s slightly better than average basketball team, but he looked just as good in his track-suit as he did in his shorts and singlet.

Ian Gallagher: varsity basketball star, half decent GPA, taut and tight body that Mickey had been admiring since he was a sophomore, and way too fucking preppy to even know that Mickey was alive.

Now he was probably going to dominate the track team records too.

Mickey sighed, watching him as he stretched and smiled at all the rest of his preppy buddies before they started their warm up.

“Is he staring at the redhead again?” Mandy asked and Mickey held up his middle finger before handing her the joint.

“What redhead?” Karen asked, sitting up and searching through all the students out in the field.

“There’s no fucking redhead,” Mickey said, his cheeks flushing a little.

“Don’t listen to him,” Mandy grinned. “He thinks I don’t notice him looking at the guy but he’s about as subtle as those stupid jocks are in the cafeteria at lunch.”

“You talking about the tall one on the track?” Karen asked. “He’s hot.”

“I was not staring at him.”

“Why the hell not?” Mandy asked.

“Jesus _fucking_ Christ, he was in my line of sight, I was not staring at the guy,” Mickey said.

“He looks pretty fit, who knows, maybe he’s a wide receiver,” Karen said, winking at Mickey who was folding his arms over his chest.

“That’s football you idiot, he’s on the basketball team,” Mickey said and Mandy walked up to Karen with a grin.

“So maybe a _power forward_ then,” she said, grabbing Karen’s hips and thrusting into her from behind.

They both started laughing like crazy and Mickey just shook his head. “Why the fuck do I hang out with the two of you?”

“Because we don’t care that you’re totally smitten with the bangable basketballer,” Mandy said.

“I’m not―”

“He’s running track but you somehow know that he plays ball?” Mandy said with an eyebrow raised. “I can totally suss him out for you if you want.”

“Can we not do this? Please?” Mickey said and they thought he didn’t notice them share a look, but he did.

“Whatever, I should probably go to class, if I let my GPA slip any lower I’m going to be here even longer,” Mandy said. “First day is sort of important, right?”

She took one last hit off the joint and handed it over to Karen before picking up her bag and offering them a wave as she weaved her way out.

Karen sighed and walked over to sit beside Mickey who was looking out at the track again, his face dropped somehow from before.

“I wasn’t lying when I said he was hot,” she said and Mickey just gave her a snort in response. “You know you can just sit here and look at him, no one says you have to actually do anything.”

“Why would I? You think I have a death wish?” he said.

“All I’m saying is that looking is great, looking is awesome. Put him in your fucking spank bank,” she said and his lips twitched a little.

“My spank bank?” he cocked an eyebrow at her and she laughed.

“Get him out of your system without having to get him _in_ ,” she said as she bit down on her lip. “Mandy doesn’t get it because when she wants someone she just goes for it. She doesn’t get that sometimes going for it just isn’t an option.”

“Are we seriously having this conversation?” Mickey asked. “Can’t we just stick to getting high?”

“I got some harder stuff if you want it?” she said, her smile getting wider and he laughed out loud, looking over at her with a shake of his head.

“Don’t fucking say it,” he said.

“Okay, I won’t. You gonna go to your next class?”

“Probably, it’s the best one I got,” he said.

“Oh and that is?” she asked, highly doubting that anything at this school could be worth either of their time.

“Picked up an extra gym elective, basically just weight and fitness training,” he said.

“You realise that sounds worse than the chemistry class that I am _not_ attending right now?”

“It’s a whole class of pounding the crap out of a punching bag, and all the teacher does is weekly assessment which is seeing how we’ve fucking improved over the year. Biggest load of shit here,” he said and she rolled her eyes.

“Well, have fun getting sweaty and disgusting for all the wrong reasons,” she said with a smile, closing her eyes and letting out a heartfelt sigh. “Wake me when you’re leaving.”

 

By the time he headed off to his ‘class’ he was ready to get his frustrations out. School rarely left him in a hospitable mood and the first day back was never one of the odd occasions where he was happy to be there.

The minute he stepped into the crummy converted weights gym, formerly a sweaty storage area, he strapped on the fingerless gloves and squared up to the boxing bag. If only he could be graded on the slam of his fists instead of the way his brain completes complex equations.

He was the first one in class, earning him a curious eyebrow lift from the teacher who was sitting in the corner flicking through a Reader’s Digest. Even the teachers who had never had the _pleasure_ of teaching him knew him by mere reputation. Most of them had experienced at least one of his brothers in the years before him and that meant they expected the worst from him.

There was no use trying to change their minds, so usually he met their expectations.

He started laying it in with his punches, his knuckles slamming into the hard leather as he tried to relieve some of his frustrations.

The door to the gym opened and a group of guys walked in, laughing and being the obnoxious assholes that Mickey knew them to be. He let out a grunt in annoyance and threw a hard right rook into the bag.

It didn’t go unnoticed to him that Gallagher was a part of that group, his eyes drifting slightly as the redhead walked in with his usual arrogance as he stripped out of his jacket leaving him in only his thin white tee and sweats.

After a good few minutes of goofing around they settled in at different stations and turned up the music to a few decibels above irritating for Mickey. He couldn’t help but let his eyes slip a little as Gallagher worked his core on one of the pieces of equipment. He seemed to work through his reps easily and Mickey shook his head because it was no wonder the guy looked at good as he did.

Ian looked over at Mickey as he took a sip from his water bottle, narrowing his eyes a little and Mickey pretended he hadn’t noticed.

 _Probably wondering how a Milkovich even made it to senior year_ , Mickey thought, gritting his teeth and throwing an even harder fist into the bag.

Gallagher kept shooting looks his way, and it was beginning to get irksome. He would throw his gaze over his shoulder or look into the mirror as he lifted his weights and after Mickey had taken a few minutes to cool off he made it obvious that he’d noticed.

“You want something?” he asked and Ian gave him a smile that Mickey was ashamed to say was flawless.

“Just checking out your technique, you throw a pretty heavy punch,” he said and Mickey scoffed.

“What’s the point if you ain’t throwing everything behind it?” he asked.

“You’ve got a pretty good right hook, but your stance is a bit off,” he said, still smiling only now he was leaning against the bag with a hand on his hip.

Mickey’s eyebrows shot up, “excuse you?”

“You’re body’s too front on, you’ve got to get on the side a little more,” he said.

“That right?” he said and Ian’s smile got a little wider.

“And stay on your toes, gives you better movement if you do.”

“I know how to throw a fucking punch,” Mickey said.

Gallagher shrugged. “I’m just saying, you get more out of it if you use the right positions.”

“Look preppy, I know everyone thinks my brain is fucking fried, which let’s face it, it probably is, but if there’s one thing I don’t need your help with it’s using my fucking fists, okay?” he snapped.

Ian let out a sigh and nodded a little, “Just trying to help.”

“Yeah? Don’t,” Mickey said and the two locked eyes for a moment before Mickey was looking down at his hands and readjusting his gloves.

“And I’m not that preppy,” he added, turning to walk back to another activity.

Mickey sighed, talking to people had never been his strong suit. He went back to boxing, trying not to let Gallagher see that his body had shifted and he was a little lighter on his feet, but the guy wasn’t looking anymore.


	2. Defence Mechanisms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _**Gallavich High School AU:** This time it's teen angst and frustration as the boys clash._

“How was school little brother?” Mickey’s older brother Iggy asked as he walked in that afternoon.

“What do you fucking think?” he said as he dumped his bag down on the couch and headed straight for the kitchen.

Mandy had gone to Karen’s to do god knows what and Mickey was still in a bad mood from his classes.

“You could still drop out,” Iggy said. “No one’s forcin’ you to be there.”

“What so I can turn out just like you? Fuck that,” he said and Iggy threw something at him from the living room.

“I ain’t so bad when you get to know me.”

“I beg to fucking differ.”

Once Mickey had done making himself something to eat with just the scraps he could find in their bare kitchen he headed to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

His mind travelled back to his gym class, not that he wanted it to. He just couldn’t get Ian fucking Gallagher and his perfect smile and tight-fitted shirt out of his head. It wasn’t just that it was the first time he’d spoken him since lower school, it was how audacious he was, that he thought he could come in and correct his boxing position, thinking he knew anything more about it than Mickey did.

He grunted loudly, shoving the dresser aside and biting down on his lip. He needed a cold fucking shower.

He didn’t take it, instead he mulled under the stream of hot water, one hand on the wall and his head hung between his shoulder blades. It wasn’t the first time that Ian had crossed his mind when he’d been alone, it probably wouldn’t be the last either.

He tried not to think of him more than that and for the most part it worked. It wasn’t until he was sitting in his English class that he thought of him again.

Mickey sat alone up the back of the class, the seat beside him empty. Maybe it was because no one wanted to sit beside him, maybe he just got lucky, either way he liked having that extra bit of space.

They were about ten minutes into their lesson, not that Mickey was paying the teacher any attention. He was covering the reading list for the semester and Mickey didn’t even plan to read the list.

There was a quick knock on the door and then Ian was poking his head through.

“Uh hey, sorry I’m late, only just got signed up,” he said with a smile, hitching his backpack up higher on his shoulder.

“Well it’s nice to have you with us Mr Gallagher,” the teacher said, taking his forms off him. “You can take a seat.”

As he looked around the room it occurred to Mickey that there was only one seat left empty in the class. He rolled his eyes as Ian walked over, looking over at him with an amused facial expression.

Mickey grunted, leaning over to take his bag out of the chair beside him.

“Yeah, yeah I got it,” he mumbled.

“Thanks,” he said.

“Whatever,” Mickey said, going back to staring down at the blank paper in front of him.

He heard Ian scoff from beside him but he didn’t look back up. His cheeks already felt hot at the sight of him. It was a little awkward to make eye contact with a guy you’ve pictured while jacking yourself off.

He caught glimpses of him throughout the class, through the careful use of a side glance or a stretch, and he seemed to be taking in everything that the teacher said. Mickey could care less about English; he hated the subject. Mostly because he only ever scraped a pass by the skin of his teeth, but also because he had never had an English teacher who didn’t have a vendetta against him.

Mandy felt the same way, Iggy and Colin had been absolute monsters in their years at the school and none of the long-serving teachers would let them forget it.

When the bell went Gallagher was up and gone with the rest of his classmates, not even a look back. Mickey didn’t know why he had expected any less.

“If they think I’m doin’ half the shit on that reading list they can fucking forget it,” he said, cigarette between his lips as he leaned up against the bars under the bleachers.

“You know maybe you should stop blaming your brothers for the fact that you’re failing English,” Karen said with a grin from her spot behind him.

“Shut up, wouldn’t matter anyway,” he said.

“Maybe you could blow your teacher,” Mandy said, dumping her bag and going to stand by Karen with her arms folded. “That’d probably help me.”

“Don’t do that, your teacher is old and disgusting,” Karen said and Mandy rolled her eyes.

“Obviously, that’s why he feels the need to run his fingers over my desk every fucking day. It creeps me out,” she said with a look of disgust. “That’s why I think a blow job could work.”

“Don’t blow your fuckin’ teacher,” Mickey said with a scoff, looking out over the track and watching their run throughs. “I’m sure you can find someone better… or at least fuckin’ younger.”

He took a long drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke out through his nose.

“Jesus fucking Christ, I’m not going to blow my teacher!” she said. “You guys are disgusting.”

“You’re the one who said it,” Karen said. “Whatever, you guys want to skip the last couple of classes? I can get us something good.”

“Nah,” Mickey said, tossing out the butt of his cigarette. “Free gym practice, like I’m gonna give that up to spend time with you two assholes.”

“Dick,” they said in unison and he just grinned back at them.

He figured he’d leave his boxing until the end of the session, getting in right on time to snag a treadmill. He hated running but he didn’t mind it so much on the machine. Put him on the track and he’d moan about it to no end, but here with his headphones in his ears wasn’t too bad.

He only had one speed, it wasn’t really about the exercise, he didn’t really know what it was about but he sure as hell wasn’t one of those interval running guys. No fuckin way.

The other guys seemed to glance up at him on their way in but he ignored them, they were only there for a moment before they made their way to something else. All but one.

Gallagher leant up against the wall and regarded him, looking him up and down a little.

“Come to criticize my runnin’ now Gallagher?” Mickey said through gritted teeth as the sweat dripped down his forehead.

“That what you call it?” he said and Mickey just grunted in frustration.

“Fuck off,” he said.

“You’re going to fail if you just do whatever the fuck you want,” he said, arms folded over his chest. “Unless you’re planning to be terrible for the first half of the year so it looks like you’ve improved by the end, in that case it isn’t the worst plan.”

Mickey let out a loud huff as he lifted his feet up to the sides of the treadmill, panting heavily.

“What do you care?” he said. “Don’t need your fuckin’ charity.”

He smirked a little with disdain before pushing himself off the wall.

“This time I wasn’t offering,” he said with a sarcastic grin and walked over to another station.

 _Fucking Gallagher_ , Mickey thought.

He tried not to do it, to look at him, but he had never been one to utilise his self-control. When he finished his run he looked over at him doing reps on one of the machines and turned away roughly when Ian caught his eye.

His brow furrowed as he rested his hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath. He didn’t know why he was so aggressive, especially towards people who show him any kind of attention. He didn’t even try to do it, it just happened, like a reflex.

It happened more often with Ian than with anyone else.

Every time he saw him he would scoff or scowl, he was a nightmare to sit next to in English and he was sure he was driving Ian insane every day but he couldn’t help it. That’s just the kind of thing he did.

Nearly three weeks into the term and he started to realise that he spent his days waiting for Ian to show up so that he could antagonise him. By this time he had started to ignore him more than anything. For the first week or so he seemed to play along, but it didn’t seem to be a game to him anymore.

Mickey sat on the wall outside the school, cigarette between his fingers and his leg tapping. Karen walked over to him and stood by his side, just looking down. He stared ahead, sighing and blowing smoke from his lips.

“What’s up with you?” she asked.

He looked up with just his eyes before shaking his head.

“Nothing,” he grumbled.

She rolled her eyes and slapped him lightly on the arm.

“Shut up, get up, and start talking.”

“How can I shut up _and_ start talking?” he said, sliding off the wall.

“You can start by not being a smart ass,” she said. “Why are you brooding on your own?”

“Because everyone else is a fuckin’ moron?”

“True, now start talking asshole.”

He sighed. “Since when do we do that?”

“You know what? You can just go back to sitting alone and wait for one of the teachers to come and give you detention for smoking on school grounds.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright,” he said. “Sorry, can’t fucking help it.”

“Being a dick?” she asked with a quiet smirk.

He was about to argue with her but she had a point.

“Yeah,” he said with another sigh. “Anyone who fuckin’ talks to me… I bite their fuckin’ head off.”

She shrugged. “It’s a defence mechanism.”

“You gonna be my shrink now?”

“Shut up,” she said, kicking him in the ankle and making him trip up. “I’m just saying, you being a dick is just how you stop yourself forming attachments with people. You don’t give a shit about anyone and they don’t give a shit about you, no one gets hurt. I do the same fucking thing.”

“So how do you fuckin’ stop?” he asked.

“You don’t, you can’t help doing it so how do you expect to stop?” she said. “Why do you want to stop? It makes life easier if you’re heartless.”

“No reason really,” he said, looking up and squinting through the light over to where Ian was walking out of the hall and into the front quad.

Karen followed his gaze and looked down at her feet. “This is about him?”

“He’s a fuckin’ preppy… show-off douche-bag,” he said. “Yeah it’s about him.”

“Didn’t know you talked to him that much,” she said.

“I don’t,” he said. “Sit next to him in English.”

“And what? You didn’t lend him a pen when he asked?”

“Would you shut up?”

“I’m just saying, we act like dicks because what’s the alternative? Caring so much that it fucking kills us when we get hurt? No way, why do you think neither of us gives a shit about our dads?”

“Because they’re assholes that should just drop dead for everyone else’s benefit?” he said and she stopped, nodding to herself.

“Yeah, that too.”

Mickey sighed. “Give me a couple minutes yeah?”

She turned to look at him and nodded again as he bit down on his lip and walked in the direction of Ian.

He was looking down at his phone, body turned away from Mickey.

He didn’t quite know what he was going to say, he hadn’t thought it through. He didn’t even know why he cared so much. That last part was a lie, he knew why he cared and he’d tried hard not to, but there was just something about Ian.

“Yo Gallagher!” he called and Ian turned around, an exasperated look on his face when he saw him. “Got a minute?”

He spoke with his usual roughness, even trying to keep it out of his voice it still managed to creep its way in.

“What’s your problem?” he asked, throwing his hand up.

“Just wanted to talk a minute,” he said, stopping in front of him.

“No, I mean _really_ ,” he said. “You act like a dick for no fucking reason, you’re snappy, and grumpy and for some reason my trying to help you just makes you angrier. Maybe it’s because I’m that ‘preppy asshole’ you’ve labelled me and can't get past that, so I’ll ask again, what the hell is your problem?”

Mickey was a little taken aback, partly because of his harsh tone and party because of how striking he was when his jaw was set in a hard pissed-off line.

He was about to retaliate, make him feel bad for snapping by telling him he was about to apologise, but he didn’t get the chance.

“Dude, you have to ask?”

A voice came from behind Mickey and three guys who played on the basketball team with Ian came strutting over to stand by him.

“He’s a fucking Milkovich, that’s what his problem is,” one of them said. “That’s bad enough right?”

The three of them laughed but Ian just dropped his gaze, looking slightly embarrassed for losing his temper.

“Aren’t you failing like all your classes?” one of them said with a grin and Mickey grit his teeth.

“Only because he’s always on the grass, that’s your thing, right?” one said with an arrogant smirk. “Out with the other two dead ends.”

“Watch it,” Mickey said quietly and they laughed again.

“Guys, just leave it,” Ian said.

“Oh come on, even he knows the best place he’s going to wind up is _minimum_ security,” one said. “And his sister and that blonde skank, they’ll be―”

“I said fuckin’ watch it,” Mickey said, squaring off to the one mouthy douchebag.

“Boys! Break it up!” One of the teachers yelled from the doorway of the building.

“Guys, come on,” Ian said quietly.

“Better leave now, pretty sure Milkovich’s have a problem hearing the word ‘don’t’,” one sneered.

Another slapped him on the arm, grinning to himself.

“Yeah, maybe that’s why they also have a problem with inbreeding.”

Ian’s eyes looked over towards Mickey who was seething.

“Guys, just go I’ll meet you on the court,” Ian said and they walked away, laughing and giving him pats on the back as they left.

“Look, I didn’t mean for them to―” he tried, but Mickey was done listening.

“You come anywhere near me and I’ll break your fuckin’ nose,” he said in a growl before storming away.

Well, so much for reconciliation.


	3. Under the Rough Exterior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_Ian and Mickey High School AU:_** Mickey can’t stop thinking about Ian, even though he doesn’t want him in his head. When a chance encounter leaves them in one another’s company the animosity between them starts to bloom into something more.

Mickey stormed off angrily, Ian’s mouth parted as though he wanted to call back to him to say something but he didn’t. He just shoved his hands into his pockets, shaking his head and walking off towards the gymnasium.

He couldn’t _believe_ he’d felt guilty about treating Ian like a dick, he _was_ a dick. Maybe he hadn’t said any of those things himself but it didn’t matter. If that’s the kind of crap his friends said about him then he couldn’t think much better of him.

He could hear Karen calling out to him but he couldn’t stop moving, he was too pissed off, and maybe even a little hurt, not that he’d ever admit it.

He slowed down when he was about a block away from the school and finally Karen had the chance to catch up with him.

“What the fuck happened back there?” she asked, trying to catch her breath. “You know you made me run and I hate running.”

“You didn’t need to follow me,” he growled.

“What did he say to you?”

“Would you just fucking drop it?” he snapped, turning to face her for a moment.

She put her hands up and just nodded at him.

They walked for a few minutes in silence while she let him calm down.

“You know you’re only pissed off because you care too much,” she said without looking up.

“About _him_?” he scoffed. “He’s just another preppy asshole.”

“If you say so.”

“Would you stop that?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“Can’t you go and annoy my sister instead?”

Karen smiled. “She’s in detention.”

“What she do this time?”

“Nothing, Ms Green just hates her because she’s an old bitch,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Besides, you and me hardly ever get alone time.”

He actually managed to find the smallest of smiles. “Fuck off I see too much of you already.”

“Better me than some preppy assholes though,” she said and he sighed.

 _Probably right_ , he thought, but still he couldn’t help but feel the disappointment in him.

He tried not to think of Ian too much after that day, the problem was that even though he didn’t want him to cross his mind he would do so anyway. He would think of him outside the school hours, when he didn’t have to see him.

Those thoughts were generally shed in kinder light, thinking of how good he looked in the gym, especially when he was getting hot and sweaty, or of his quick witted tongue that Mickey enjoyed hearing from despite how arrogant his words could seem.

When he saw him in his classes the rage would come back and he would remember vividly the words his friends said and thought about how he must think them himself and he refused to look at him beyond that first glance.

On the first day back after the incident Ian tried to say something, an apology maybe, but Mickey refused to listen. He just walked away from him in gym and got up and flat walked out of his English class, not that his teacher cared about that.

Ian seemed to get the point. By the time the week was through he’d given up entirely, back to ignoring Mickey’s existence like he didn’t even know he existed, which up until a few weeks ago he practically didn’t.

It seemed stupid, they were never friends, never even more than just two guys in the same year group, but now there was just nothing between them and Mickey felt bitter at that. It’s not often anyone noticed him more than with just a scoff or a disgusted up-turn of their lip.

It was a Friday night and Mandy was trying to scrounge up something to eat but no one had stocked the kitchen in a few days. Mickey sat on one of the chairs in the living room, beer in his hand and lazily watching the show that his dad was screaming at.

He was trying to ignore him but he’d been throwing him snide comments all afternoon. It wasn’t unusual, but Mickey’s patience was somehow thinner than it normally was.

“Who gives a fuck about your fuckin’ English teacher?” he said when Mickey had complained about how biased Mr Loch was when it came to his work. “When are you gonna need to write a fuckin’ essay?”

“Just saying that the guy’s a fuckin’ asshole,” Mickey grumbled.

“Don’t be such a fuckin’ pussy,” he spat. “Why don’t you give up on that piss-weak dream of yours to finish school like it’s actually gonna happen and start earning some fuckin’ money? Mandy! What’s takin’ so long?”

“What do you expect me to make with baking soda and potatoes huh?” she yelled and Mickey just rubbed his head in frustration.

“Just put something on the fuckin’ stove!” he yelled before turning back to the TV. “Jesus you’d be better off in the fucking kitchen with your sister than you are at that school, lucky you made it past freshman year.”

He laughed to himself and yelled for Mandy to bring him a beer and Mickey was just tired of listening to him. He got up out of his seat, grabbing his jacket and just gritting his teeth.

“Where the fuck’re you going?”

“Out.”

Mandy gave him a look but he just stormed out the door, needing some air. His house was big enough but when his father was there is was downright claustrophobic.

He didn’t mind walking through the streets. He was wary of course, you had to be in the South Side, but he wasn’t someone people would approach on the streets, especially when he had his hood up.

He walked down the streets, past the baseball field and down the laneways by the bar district. There were a few places that had small crowds, the dull hum of laughter and chatter coming from the buildings. He made his way past them all and lit up a cigarette, he always kept a pack in his jacket pocket.

As he walked slowly away from the noise he took a long drag, rubbing his temples and leaning up in the shadows of one of the buildings. A few people walked by, probably on their way home by the way they were stumbling.

He sat himself down by the wall, leaning against it and dragging in the smoke, holding it in for as long as he could before blowing it out slowly. He heard another pair of feet, taking big steps down the road to his right. He didn’t think much of it until he heard some quick feet before the jeers of more than one man and the sound of a fist hitting flesh travelled around the corner.

“Thought you could just walk away huh?”

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Mickey turned his head to see the shadows, one man already having fallen to the floor while the other two stood by him, leaning in to punch him in the side when he tried to get up.

“Jesus, what is your fucking problem?”

Mickey’s ears picked up those words and they burned with them. _He knew that voice_.

He got to his feet and even though he thought he could hear Gallagher’s voice a part of him believed it was only because he had the redhead on his mind. He stood at the corner of the street and looked around, that unforgettable flash of red hair spinning as Ian took a fist to the chin.

He let out a loud grunt and spat some blood out onto the pavement, a hard grimace on his face as the men laughed while they kicked him in the side.

Mickey grit his teeth as he watched, knowing that he couldn’t just leave him there, at the hands of two drunken brutes. He shook his head with hesitation and growled when his feet started moving towards them.

“Hey, you there!” he yelled and the two guys looked up, ceasing their attack. “What seems to be the problem?”

“Walk away man, nothin’ to see here,” one of them said with a grin.

Mickey looked down at Ian as he looked up. He wasn’t sure if it was surprise or just panic in his eyes when he saw him standing there. Mickey scoffed a little.

“Yeah, bit late for that,” he said, looking up slowly.

“What the fuck you―” one of the men began before Mickey was swinging his fist into the side of his face.

He recoiled quickly, stepping back and tripping over one of Ian’s legs. Mickey gave the other guy a ‘go on then’ look but he was still stunned. He bounced on his toes, body side on, and swung at him much like he had done with the other.

This one yelled and turned his face aside and then keeled over as Mickey’s other fist collided with his stomach. The first guy        was back on his feet, snarling at Mickey and waving his fists madly but Mickey had the advantage of being quicker with his punches and far less inebriated.

He made contact with his ribs with one punch and then lurched forward to head-butt him, making him curse and clutch at his nose.

Before they could threaten him any more he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pocket knife, flicking open the blade and holding it out towards them. They stared at it for a moment, looking up at him like he was crazy.

“I think it’s time for you to fuck off now,” Mickey said with a smirk.

“You’re fuckin’ crazy,” one of them said, clutching his bleeding nose.

“You wanna find that out then keep goin’, otherwise back the fuck off,” he said.

“You wanna defend this faggot then go ahead, come on…” he tapped his friend on the shoulder and they stalked off.

Mickey swallowed hard as he watched them, not taking his eyes off them until they were out of sight, his heart hammering loudly in his chest.

When he looked down at Ian he was sitting up a little, both palms on the ground as he regained his breath. He looked up from under his eyelashes, eyeing Mickey carefully as if he might turn on him too.

Mickey flicked the blade back into his knife, shoving it back into his pocket.

“You know for a track star I would have thought you could get away from assholes like them,” he said, stepping back and offering Ian a hand up.

Reluctantly, he took it, wincing as Mickey pulled him to his feet.

“They got the jump on me,” he said, losing his balance and crashing into Mickey’s shoulder.

Luckily he was ready for it.

“Yeah, yeah, good excuse,” he said, trying to steady him.

Ian’s hand clasped down on his shoulder and he clenched his teeth at the pain in his chest. He could already feel the bruises on his skin.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said quietly and Mickey just tried to avoid his eyes.

“Whatever,” he said. “Come on, which way to your place?”

“You don’t have to―”

“You can't even stand on your own, you want me to leave you lyin’ in the street or you want me to leave you lyin’ on your doorstep? Pick one,” he said.

“It’s a decent walk.”

“I walked this far now shut the fuck up and start moving.”

Ian pointed out the direction and told him the address, only a few blocks from Mickey’s house. He hoisted him up higher and they stumbled down the road but Ian needed a few minutes to collect himself before he was going anywhere.

They found a bench on the side of the street and sat down, Mickey sitting as far from the warm heat of Ian’s body as he could manage. Being so close to him for even a short period of time was overwhelming his senses.

He put a hand to his ribs and Mickey watched as he sucked in the air as he stretched out.

“Broken ribs maybe?” he asked and Ian shook his head.

“Don’t that before, this isn’t that bad. Probably just bruising,” he said, still looking at Mickey with caution. “You always carry a knife on you?”

Mickey smiled to himself, looking down at his feet. “You _don’t_ carry a knife when you’re out walkin’ in the South Side?”

“Not when I’m― you know security at clubs don’t like it when you bring weapons in,” he said.

“Do I look like a guy who goes to clubs?” he said with a raised eyebrow.

Ian looked him over and leant back against the bench. “Guess not.”

They were silent for a moment before Ian turend his eyes back to Mickey, this time with more curiosity than caution.

“So why did you stop them?” he asked quietly.

Mickey shrugged. “I don’t know what you…”

“You could have let them leave me a bloody pulp in the middle of the road, but you didn’t,” he said.

“You like being roadkill?” he asked with a quick look to the side.

“No,” he said. “But I distinctly remember you threatening to turn me into it if I ever came near you again.”

“Yeah I have a temper,” Mickey said. “And you can be a bit of a dick.”

Ian laughed a little, clutching at his side. “I never said any of it, and you wouldn’t let me apologise.”

“Yeah, yeah, doesn’t mean you can't be a dick.”

“I guess,” he said. “How’d you know I run track?”

“What?”

“You said―”

“Are we done with the small-talk? Can you walk yet or do I got to fuckin’ carry you?” he asked as he got up and looked around.

Ian nodded silently, pushing himself up. He was still a bit wobbly on his feet but Mickey made a decent support.

They walked for what seemed like a long time without either of them saying a word. Mickey was afraid of snapping again and Ian knew that if he pushed the wrong buttons he’d be left trying to get home on his own so he kept his mouth shut.

When they turned onto his street he finally spoke up.

“My house is just up there, I can probably make it if you want to get back home,” he said and Mickey just scoffed.

“Yeah, right,” he said.

They walked up to the Gallagher house and Mickey remembered walking past it when he was a kid, there was always something going on at the Gallagher’s. The same could be said for his own house.

As they opened the gate and let it swing shut the front door opened and a worried looking young woman with wavy brown hair came running out.

“Jesus Christ Ian what the hell happened?” she said.

“I’m fine Fiona, just a couple of thugs on the street,” he said and her eyes turned to Mickey.

“And you were, what, walking by?” she asked.

“Walkin’ clears my head,” he said and she raised an eyebrow. “Came round the corner to see him getting’ mugged, recognised him from class.”

Her eyes got a little wider. “You’re in his classes? Aren’t you Terry Milkovich’s kid?”

Mickey felt a little sting at that, the stigma of being a Milkovich not one that can be easily dropped.

“Fiona how about we just get inside, please?” Ian said quickly.

“Come on,” she said, walking back up the stairs to open the door for them.

Mickey felt weird at going inside and Fiona ran to the freezer as soon as the door was closed to get some ice. He helped Ian into one of the kitchen chairs and stepped back awkwardly, edging towards the door.

“You need anything else? Your face is kinda bruised up but what about the rest of you?” she asked.

“More of the same, look, I know you were going out with Vee so just go, I’ll be fine,” he said and Mickey finally noticed that Fiona was dressed up like she was ready to hit the town.

“Ian I―”

“Never get a night out because there’s always something wrong with one of us? Yeah, that sucks,” he said and she gave him a shake of her head and a light smile. “I’m home and I’m fine, just go.”

She rolled her eyes and pulled him in to kiss the part of his face that wasn’t purple of swollen. “You call me if you need me.”

“I won't need to,” he said and reluctantly she headed out.

Mickey was still standing awkwardly by the door, thinking that maybe he could slip out and avoid having to say anything.

“You can grab a glass of water if you want, we might have beer but it’s electric week so the budget’s been a bit tight,” he said as he put the ice to his face.

“I’m good, just gonna go,” he said, pointing to the door and turning around.

“Wait,” Ian said and he looked back over his shoulder. “You told Fiona it was a mugging, it wasn’t. You know that.”

“Clearly two guys just looking to crack some skulls, what does it matter what I told her?” he said defensively.

“Because you heard what they said after you pulled the knife on them,” Ian said slowly.

Mickey remembered it clearly. The adrenaline had been rushing and it was starting to do so again when he realised that maybe Ian was trying to tell him that their words had been true.

“Look I don’t know why you think I wanna stick around after draggin’ your ass back here, but I really gotta go,” he said and walked to the door.

As he was about to turn the handle to open it Ian’s voice made him freeze again, only this time he didn’t turn around.

“Mickey,” he said. “Why did you save me from them?”

He thought about saying something, thought about saying anything. Instead, after a moment’s hesitation, he opened the door and left without another word.

When he made it home Mandy saw the blood on his bruised knuckles.

“What the hell did you do?” she asked and he just shrugged.

“You think this is bad you should see the other guys,” he said and his father had laughed.

“Now that’s more like it,” he said and Mickey just walked straight to his bedroom, he just wanted to be alone.


	4. Relieving Tensions

Mickey couldn’t sleep that night, at least not for a few hours anyway. His jacket smelled like him, like his sweat and his cologne, like he may as well still be leaning his weight down into him.

Usually he took it off, hung it up by the door or threw it over one of the chairs but he just lay in bed trying to resist the urge to pull it in close to his face and just breathe in what Ian had left behind.

What had compelled him to do it? Why had he decided that helping out Ian fucking Gallagher of all people was a good idea?

 _You couldn’t have just left him to those two assholes_ , he thought to himself.

Maybe he could have, maybe if it had been anyone other than him he would have just walked on by without a second glance. But it wasn’t, it was Ian.

His thoughts about him were getting out of hand. They needed to stop before things got any worse. He should have just left before Ian had asked that question, the one that still hung in the air.

_Why did you save me from them?_

Ian’s voice was ringing in his ears and he wished he had an answer that wasn’t simply ‘because I was angry that they had the nerve to hurt you like that’ or ‘I couldn’t just walk away’. Only he could have walked away, and he would have… if it had been almost _anyone_ else.

And what he said about their final words, they didn’t have the effect that Ian had been expecting. He’d been expecting Mickey to throw a slur his way, maybe tell him that he regretted stepping in to save him.

Instead he’d been defensive, agitated, he avoided the topic like he had something he really didn’t want to say.

Mickey gave in; taking a handful of the jacket that was wrapped tightly around him and dragged it to his face, inhaling deeply. He closed his eyes and his lips parted a little as his senses tingled.

He slid his hand down slowly, under the band of his jeans and through the course hair until his fingers were brushing the soft unblemished skin inside that was quickly growing harder to the touch.

He sighed heavily and kept going, knowing he shouldn’t be letting it get to this point but not being able to stop himself. Ian Gallagher had already managed to bury himself under his skin.

Mandy didn’t bother questioning him further about his battered hands in the morning, it’s not like it’s all that unusual for Mickey or one of her other brothers to get into a fist fight.

Both of them felt uneasy over the weekend, trying to be out as much as possible because their father was going through one of his lazy patches. His wallet must have been fat with the spoils of a good run because he wasn’t in any hurry to find a new job to do, instead he was lounging about the house and barking orders at the two of them.

Mandy managed to weasel out on Sunday afternoon but Mickey couldn’t think of anywhere he wanted to be, and he had an English assignment to work on anyway. If his father caught him working on it he’d never hear the end of it.

It wasn’t like it was something he particularly wanted to do, but if he didn’t pass the class this year he wouldn’t be graduating, and already he could hardly bear it.

He had taken a break from it, standing in the kitchen trying to find something to eat when there was a knock on the door.

“Mandy! Door!” Terry yelled.

“She’s not here,” Mickey said with his mouth full of cereal.

“So go get the door you lazy shit and tell them to fuck off!” he yelled from the couch and Mickey just shook his head and did as he said.

Only when he opened the door all the words seemed to get knocked clean out of him.

Ian stood on the steps, bruises under his eye and small cuts to his lip and brow but otherwise as stunning as he ever had been.

“I thought this was the right place, for a second I thought I might have been wrong,” he said with a small smile.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Mickey said through gritted teeth.

“I wanted to talk to you, thank you for what you did,” he said, taking a small step forward.

“Yeah alright, you did that now you have to go,” he said.

“Can I come in for a minute? I just want to―”

“Who’s at the fucking door?” Terry yelled from inside and Mickey looked back at him for a moment.

“No one, it’s fine,” he yelled before turning back to Ian. “You gotta go.”

“Mickey I just want―”

“Look, just forget about the whole fucking thing. I said you gotta go so… _go_!” he said, putting his hand out to stop Ian moving forward and unintentionally pressing it to his chest.

Ian looked down at it and Mickey could feel his own breathing get a little faster. He hoped Ian hadn’t noticed it as he looked back up at him.

“You saved my ass the other night,” he said, not trying to move Mickey’s hand. “I just wanted you to know that I’m glad you were there.”

Mickey yanked his hand back and avoided Ian’s eyes.

“I don’t have time, seriously, just go,” he said, trying to back into the house.

“Mickey―”

“And stop saying my fucking name like that!” he hissed.

“Saying it like what?”

“You know what,” he said, locking eyes with him for a moment before he felt the heat flush to his cheeks and he was slamming the door in his face before he could notice it.

He didn’t know whether his heart was pounding from the thrill of seeing Gallagher or from the panic that his father might have heard them at the door and notice his pinking cheeks. Either way he left the room pretty quickly, everything running a million miles an hour in his head.

 

He walked to school the next day with Mandy and Karen as per usual, the two of them talking about another of Karen’s ridiculous weekend exploits. Usually he would be right in there with them, throwing in snide comments or teasing one or both of them but today he was silent.

“What’s the matter with him?” Karen said loudly once they were only a few blocks from school.

“I don’t know, the usual?” Mandy said and they both turned to look back at him.

He held up his middle finger and Mandy scoffed while Karen managed a grin.

“You know I take it back, he’s fine,” she said.

“No you’re right, he’s been weird all weekend. Probably just dad getting on his nerves.”

“Still just taking up space huh?” Karen said and Mandy sighed.

“Sometimes it’s like he’s taking up _all_ the space,” she said.

“I get what you mean, my dad’s been gone for how long now and I’m still finding those creepy fucking clowns in weird places.”

“I thought you burned all of those,” Mandy said.

“Me too, maybe someone is just hiding random clowns around my house to drive me slowly crazy,” she said.

“That’s a lot of effort to go to just to screw with you.”

“True, maybe my dad was just a bigger freak than I thought,” she said with a shrug.

“Be thankful that’s _all_ he was,” Mandy said.

As they made it through the school gates Mickey was still quiet, looking around warily to see if Gallagher was nearby. He didn’t spot him until they were inside the halls, the bruises on his face slowly fading but very obvious under the light by the lockers.

He stopped a moment to look at him, their lockers only just down the hall from one another. Mandy noticed him give him a look and was about to make a snide joke until she saw the state of Ian’s face.

“Holy crap, what the hell happened to him?” she said and Karen looked up at him with her.

“Damn, didn’t think Gallagher got into any trouble,” she said.

Ian looked up and around for a moment before his eyes found Mickey. The two locked their gazes for a moment, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Mandy or Karen.

“Don’t tell me you had something to do with that?” Karen said, knowing how pissed off Mickey was after their run in the week before.

“Oh my god, he came home on Saturday night with his fists all bloodied up… did you do that to his face?” she said.

“I never touched his face,” Mickey said.

Not that he hadn’t thought about it, but in a much different context.

He broke eye contact and stormed off and the two girls watched as Ian’s eyes trailed after him.

“He totally did that to his face,” Mandy said.

“It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing that’s ever happened,” Karen conceded.

 

Mickey was standing under the bleachers later in the afternoon, staring out at the field without really taking any of it in. Fucking Gallagher showing up at his place, who does he think he is?

Maybe he shouldn’t have bothered pulling those unevolved assholes off him, let him take the beat-down. He didn’t seem like he’d done much to deserve it but still, why the fuck did that make it _his_ job to get in there and defend him?

As much as he tried to convince himself it was an idiot fucking move, he knew that he actually enjoyed the rush. He liked getting in there and threatening those guys, he liked being able to protect someone else for once in his life. The fact that it was Gallagher didn’t mean anything.

That was another thing he was trying to convince himself of, and having no such fucking luck.

“Hey!” he heard from the other side of the bleachers. “Mickey?”

 _Fucking Gallagher_.

“The fuck you want?” he said as he turned around, leaning his back against the metal framework.

“Your sister said I might find you here,” he said as he walked in, ducking under the low-hanging beams.

“So? Thought I told you to forget the whole thing happened,” he said, folding his arms.

“You saved my ass, I just want to thank you for it,” he said, stopping with his hands in his front pockets.

“You said thanks already,” Mickey said. “Besides, I’ll see you last class of the day anyway, English, remember?”

Ian shrugged. “You’re not the most reliable guy when it comes to attending classes.”

“How many English classes have I missed so fucking far?” Mickey asked.

“Hey, Mandy said it, not me.”

Mickey narrowed his eyes. “Don’t talk to my sister about me. She’ll make me fucking look bad.”

“Is that what you’re worried about? That I’ll think you look bad?” he asked, his confidence seeming to build.

“What do you want? What’s so fucking important that you couldn’t wait until next time we run into each other to tell me?” Mickey asked impatiently, heart pounding.

“I told you, I want to thank you,” he said.

“You already said―”

“I said I wanted to _thank_ you, I didn’t say that I haven’t already _said_ it,” he said, taking a few steps closer.

Mickey just looked him up and down warily. “What…” he said quietly.

“You put your ass on the line to stop those guys from beating me any worse,” he said, still getting ever closer. “So let me _thank_ you…”

Mickey was frozen to the spot as Ian stepped into the space directly in front of him. He was a head taller and so he was forced to crane his neck upwards to look at him, he could already feel the heat from his body radiating outwards.

Ian smirked a little before he was dropping to his knees, his hands reaching for the buckle on Mickey’s jeans. His heart was racing and he desperately wanted to shove Ian away for having the audacity to assume that he wanted it, but there was no denying that he did.

He looked up and away from him but he didn’t push him off, he just started breathing heavier and had no idea what to do with his hands as Ian was shimmying his jeans down and slipping a finger under the waistband of his boxers.

It should have been shameful at how hard Mickey already was when Ian pulled at his underwear, exposing his cock and letting it stand to attention before his lips.

He finally made the decision to grip the frame behind him as Ian’s tongue was sliding down the underside of his dick and making Mickey let out a loud groan. He steadied Mickey’s cock with the space between his thumb and fore finger as he pulled back to suck the tip into his mouth, making Mickey lose further control of the sounds he was making.

“ _Fuck_ …” he panted as Ian slid his lips down further, quickening his pace.

He wrapped his fingers around the base, squeezing him gently and swirling his tongue around Mickey’s sensitive slit.

Mickey’s head was spinning and he was already close to it all being over but the heat of Ian’s mouth and his wet tongue tormenting him in such an exquisite way had him focussing all his energy on making it last even longer.

Ian’s other hand slipped under his shirt and pressed against Mickey’s stomach, pushing him back against the frame and dragging his nails across his skin.

He looked down at him, his stomach tightening at the sight of him knelt in front of him, lapping at his cock like he couldn’t get enough of him.

“Gallagher… _shit…uhn… Gallagher_ …” he groaned as Ian’s lips tightened around the head of his dick and sucked quickly which made Mickey lose his focus. “ _Holy fuck_!”

Ian took Mickey into his mouth until his nose was pressed up into his dark pubic hair and Mickey was all but over the edge.

“Stop, _stop_ … _Gallagher I’m gonna_ … shit ― _fuck_!” he exclaimed as the pleasure tore through his body and still Ian wasn’t pulling his lips away.

He closed his eyes as Mickey was throwing his head painfully into the bars behind him and letting himself go in hot white spurts down Ian’s throat. Ian’s arm slid down to wrap around the back of Mickey’s legs to help hold him up as his orgasm turned every inch of him to jelly.

His chest was heaving and his eyes were screwed tight shut as he relaxed and felt Ian tucking him back into his boxers and re-zipping his jeans. As he felt him start getting to his feet he opened his eyes and looked down at him, meeting his sultry gaze.

In a moment he was standing over him again, the smirk still on his red lips.

“So… thanks,” he said, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth and swiping his tongue over his bottom lip. “See you ‘round.”

Mickey’s mouth hung open and he was still breathing heavily as Ian’s smirk got wider and he gave him an up-down look as he walked away. He went back the way he came, ducking under the bars and giving him one last grin before heading back out and onto campus.

Maybe it was the shock, maybe it was just the serotonin in his blood, but he couldn’t form a logical thought in his mind. Just when he thought the guy couldn’t find any more ways to look fucking perfect, turns out Ian Gallagher on his knees was a fucking vision.

He jumped at the sound of the bell ringing and straightened out his shirt a little before he was looking around to make sure no one could possibly have seen, and made his way out.

He didn’t say much for the rest of the day, his mind still fixated on the events of that morning. Mandy questioned him about it but he just showed her his middle finger and went back to smoking his blunt. She didn’t really question it but he had a feeling it probably wasn’t the last he’d hear of it.

He even considered not showing up to English last period because that would mean facing up to Gallagher, but he couldn’t just skip class. Somehow that would be worse the next time they ran into one another.

He was, however, late. Not that it was all that unusual for him to be late.

“Mr Milkovich, how nice of you to grace us with your presence,” Mr Loch greeted him with his usual indifference. “Get to your seat.”

He looked up to the back of the class to see Ian staring at him with a smile on his mouth. Mickey could still see the image in his mind of those lips stretched around his hard length and he quickly tried to snap out of it as he walked to the back to take his seat beside him.

As he sat down Ian leant in closer to him.

“Wasn’t sure if you were going to come,” he whispered, drawing out that last word and Mickey just gave him a glare.

“Shut the fuck up,” he said.

Ian grinned and shrugged before looking back to the front where Mr Loch was talking about the most recent book from the reading list.

He was trying so hard not to look over at him, tapping his leg quickly and actually listening for once but none of the teacher’s words were sinking in. When Mr Loch turned to write some essay questions on the board Ian reached over and dropped a folded piece of paper onto his desk before going back to writing in his note book.

Mickey looked up at him and then down at the paper, tempted to toss it back to him without even reading it, but curiosity had never been his friend.

He unfolded the paper and felt the electricity pulse through him as he read the words in Ian’s handwriting.

_I can still taste you…_

Mickey could feel his cheeks flush hot and he quickly crumpled up the paper and shoved it into his pocket.

He looked over at Ian whose tongue was gliding slowly over his bottom lip as he looked back and Mickey let out a frustrated sound as he leant in closer.

“No one said you had to swallow it asshole,” he said in barely a breath, but Ian’s lips were already drawn into a smile.

“Did I say I didn’t like it?” he asked and Mickey just shook his head, facing the front again and slouching even further into his chair.

He dropped another piece of paper onto Mickey’s desk and he shot him another glare before opening it slowly.

_Didn’t cross a line did I? I was half expecting you to break my fucking nose… as you put it_

Mickey looked over at him and this time most of the arrogance seemed to be gone from Ian’s face and in its place was genuine wondering.

Mickey scribbled something back on the paper and threw it at him, making his lips twitch in a smile and check that Mr Loch hadn’t seen it.

He unfurled the paper and looked back over at Mickey, whose cheeks were about as pink as they’d ever been.

**_You think I would have let you do that if it was crossing a line?_ **

“So, it was okay then?” he asked, leaning in closer again with that arrogant spark back on his features.

“I don’t know, you’re the one who can still fucking taste it so you tell me,” Mickey hissed and Ian just grinned.

He started writing on the paper again and Mickey rolled his eyes, waiting until it made its way back onto his desk.

_I wouldn’t mind tasting it again…_

Mickey looked over at him, teeth sinking into his lip as Gallagher just stared back with his soft pink lips parted just so and his gaze like fire on his skin. Mickey nodded slightly and Ian smiled.

“Same place after school?” he said.

“Whatever,” Mickey said, turning back to the front.

As nonchalant as he was trying to be there was absolutely no doubt that he would be under the bleachers the moment the bell rang.


	5. Game Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _**Gallavich High School AU prt 5:** Ian and Mickey keep meeting up after school but Ian starts to ask more of him and reluctantly, Mickey starts to let him._

“Where the hell have you been?” Mandy asked as Mickey walked out of the school to see her waiting with Karen in the sun.

“What?” he asked, running his hand through his hair to flatten it out, a little pink still lingering in his cheeks.

“Did you get detention or something?” Karen asked.

She was lying back on the grass, eyes closed as she enjoyed the sunshine. Mandy sat up next to her, covering her eyes from the sun with her hand.

“No I didn’t get detention,” he said. “And who said you two had to wait for me?”

“This have something to do with Gallagher?” Karen said.

“Why the fuck would you ask that?” he asked quickly and she sat up with a curious look.

“Mandy said he came looking for you earlier,” she said. “What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

“He said you saved his ass the other night, said he just wanted to talk to you about it,” Mandy said. “I mean he used some weird fucking metaphor about tongues but you know.”

Karen let out a loud laugh and Mickey hoped his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt.

“Tongue metaphor? What the hell does that mean?” she asked and Mandy shrugged as she got up off the floor.

“I don’t know, something about Mickey being a dick to him and all he wanted was to say thanks or some shit,” she said, pulling Karen up with her.

“Damn, I was convinced you’d beaten the crap out of him,” she said. “So that was why you were late? You were having some kind of tongue conversation?”

She gave a flick of her eyebrows and he flipped her off.

“Fuck off, Mr Loch kept me late… old fucker,” he lied. “Probably failing me on purpose.”

“Whatever,” Karen said, slinging her arm over Mandy’s shoulder. “You guys hungry? I could totally go for some cheese fries.”

Mickey felt his stomach growl, he hadn’t realised just how hungry he was. He’d been somewhat distracted.

_Ian’s hands pulled roughly at Mickey’s belt, pushing him up against the bars under the bleachers. Mickey’s hands were clenched into fists in Ian’s shirt, keeping his body at a decent distance._

_Ian’s fingers hooked in Mickey’s boxers, sinking to his knees as he pulled them down over his thighs. He didn’t start slow like he had earlier. He swallowed down the hot length of him in one quick mouthful, making Mickey reach forward to take hold of Ian’s red hair._

_He let go quickly, trying not to cause him any pain._

_Ian pulled his lips back and looked up at him._

_“Don’t stop, you can pull harder than that,” he said._

_“I pull any harder it’s gonna hurt,” Mickey said, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to hold back if he started._

_“I don’t care,” he said._

_“It’s gonna hurt,” Mickey said again and Ian shrugged._

_“Maybe I like it a little rough sometimes,” Mickey bit down on his lip and reached for his hair as Ian took him into his mouth again._

_He tightened his grip, making Ian moan loudly around him. In all his time thinking about Ian he had never spent any of it thinking about the exquisiteness of his mouth._

_It was soft in the rim of his lips, shiny and pink as they slid up and down his hard shaft. His tongue was strong where it needed to be and torturously slight in the right places. Mickey had no doubt that his mouth was well versed in this type of conversation and in this moment, with his lips stretched tight around his cock, he was more than glad for it._

_His hands instinctively guided Ian’s mouth over his length and again his eyes watched the way he moved, the way his eyelashes fluttered as he dragged Mickey in to the back of his throat._

_Ian didn’t waste any time, each move finding a new weakness in him that he exploited to the best of his ability, bringing him to the edge quicker than last time. The stream of curses that came out of Mickey’s mouth was about as shameful as the sticky mess that Ian swallowed down eagerly._

_He didn’t think it should have been as hot as it was to watch but he could worry about his moral compass later, when Ian fucking Gallagher wasn’t on his knees and wiping the last of his come from the corner of his mouth._

_He was panting hard, leaning against the bars as Ian got to his feet with a hungry look in his eyes as he raked them down his body._

_“Turn around,” he said quietly and Mickey raised an eyebrow as he tucked himself back into his boxers._

_“What? Why?” he asked._

_“Just turn around,” Ian said breathlessly and Mickey, being too blissed out to argue, turned his back to him._

_He felt Ian’s hand around his waist and almost flinched away from him. When he felt his other hand slip over his chest and his hips pressing firmly against his ass he just tightened his fingers around the cold metal bars._

_Ian’s breath against his ear made him close his eyes, the sound of his shallow moans and the feel of his heat grinding against his ass brought back the tingling in his stomach in a whole new way._

_“Fuck…” Ian whispered as Mickey pushed back into him._

_“Don’t stop… go harder…” Mickey rasped, not even sure he’d said it out loud._

_Ian moaned at his words, pressing his lips to Mickey’s ear. “What, you like it a little rough too?”_

_“You tell me…_ go harder _…” he growled, fingers going white with their tight grip._

_One of Ian’s hands took a firm hold of his hip, the other snaking up and into his hair, pulling his head to the side so his lips could rest just under Mickey’s ear. The sound of his moans as he thrust his hips harder and faster against him making Mickey wish he’d let him finish off to this instead of in his mouth._

_He heard the desperation in Ian’s pleasured moans, felt him grinding into him as though his orgasm was just before him, and when he finally made it over the edge he let go of Mickey’s hair and reached for the bars to hold himself steady._

_Mickey just relished the feel of him for a moment. His body pressed against him and his hot breath now caressing the skin of his neck._

_As Ian pulled himself off him, laughing with a pleasured sigh, Mickey turned to lean his back against the bars. Ian caged him in, each hand on a bar either side of him. He was short of breath as he looked up at him with a grin._

_“Next time… let’s do more of that…” he said._

_Mickey gave him a playful eyebrow raise. “Next time huh?”_

_Ian chuckled again, moving in so that his chest rubbed against Mickey’s. “Come on… ‘go harder’… this time you can't pretend that I took you by surprise.”_

_Mickey narrowed his eyes a little, putting a hand against Ian’s chest in case he thought kissing him would be a good plan. “Your breath smells like cock.”_

_“Now that definitely shouldn’t surprise you,” he said with that arrogant hint to his voice that Mickey couldn’t decide whether he hated or not._

_He grinned a little and felt Ian pushing into him a little harder. He’d had more time to recover and so when he urged his hips forward Ian could feel his cock against his hip, already beginning to get hard again._

_“Fuck…” he said, grinding into him a little. “You got anywhere to be later?”_

_Mickey thought about it and shoved Ian back, reaching down to properly re-buckle his belt._

_“Gotta work on some shit,” he said and Ian nodded._

_“Okay, well how about I meet you here at lunch tomorrow?”_

_“Karen and Mandy’ll be here too, always are,” he said._

_“_ After _school then?”_

_“Are you that hard up for it or something?” Mickey asked and Ian smiled with a shake of his head._

_“Yeah, that must be it,” he said. “I guess I’ll just see you in class then.”_

_Mickey shrugged, “Whatever.”_

_Ian turned to walk away, turning back to face him when he reached the edge of the bleachers._

_“I couldn’t help but notice you took my advice on your boxing stance the other night,” he smirked. “Maybe you should be thanking me.”_

_Mickey narrowed his eyes, trying to hide the smile on his lips._

_“Yeah, yeah, go clean your fuckin’ jeans,” he said._

_“I will!” Ian called back as he left him there._

Mickey smiled to himself, following after them while his mind went over the events of that afternoon over and over again.

He didn’t say much to the girls as they walked and they barely noticed, he often walked the whole way home without saying anything.

The pattern seemed to play out the same way until the weekend and then again the week after. Mickey was late to walk home with Karen and Mandy every afternoon and they soon came to expect it, just as Mickey came to expect Ian to meet him under the bleachers after the final bell of the day.

So far it had played out the same way as that first day after school and when they were in classes together Mickey tried to avoid anything other than a few playful words or facial expressions.

That Friday afternoon Mickey had to wait later than usual and by the time Ian showed up he was more than a little impatient.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he said as Ian came striding in with a smirk.

“Why? You miss me?” he asked.

“Parts of you maybe,” Mickey said and Ian just widened his grin.

“Sorry, team meeting,” he said.

“What the fuck is that?” Mickey asked, hands already moving to his belt.

“For basketball,” Ian said. “Big game coming up.”

“Uh huh,” Mickey said. “We doin’ this or what?”

Ian shrugged, leaning up against the bars and Mickey rolled his eyes, walking over and roughly unbuttoning his jeans.

He slipped his hand down into Ian’s boxers and wrapped his fingers around his cock, making Ian close his eyes and run his tongue over his bottom lip.

The first time Mickey had done it he’d been surprised at how big he was, thrusting into him from behind was great, but it hadn’t given him too much of an idea about size.

He had raised his eyebrows and given him a look, saying something along the lines of ‘and here I was thinking your arrogance was fucking over-compensation or something’ and Ian had just grinned at him.

So they went through the motions, far more familiar with one another than they had been at the start.

Ian liked if Mickey started with his hands a little slower at first, building him up. Mickey thought he just liked it any way he could get it but the more Ian worked at him the more he learned about himself.

As much as he wanted to let himself go he couldn’t forget his surroundings, or the fact that they’d nearly been caught by some freshmen at the beginning of the week. He still had a part of his mind concentrating on everything around him.

When they were buckling up their jeans again Ian was giving him a strange look.

“What?” he said, leaning back against the bars as he pulled up the zip on his jeans.

Ian just stared a moment before walking in closer, head tilted to the side a little.

“Hey, hey, back the fuck up,” Mickey said, hand out and pushing back against Ian’s chest. “The fuck you think you’re doing?”

“You know what I’m trying to do,” he said with a sigh, leaning into the pressure of Mickey’s palm.

“Ain’t I told you not to do that?”

“You have, and you’re running out of excuses,” Ian said with a grin as he pulled himself back.

“Whatever, still not happening.”

He made a point of not putting his lips on another person if he could help it and so far it had been working well for him.

The first time Ian made any move to kiss him was the beginning of the week and Mickey had been much rougher about his refusal. Ian never pushed it too far, always pulling back when he could see Mickey getting riled up about it.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to do it, each time Ian tried he almost thought about letting himself give in but he refused to let himself do so.

Still, Ian didn’t seem too deterred by it.

“You busy tomorrow night?” Ian asked.

Mickey gave him a strange look. “Why you askin’?”

Ian shrugged without looking up at him. “Got a play-off game on, you should come down.”

Mickey narrowed his eyes a little but Ian’s eyes weren’t on him.

“What? Come and watch you run up and down a squeaky fucking wood floor?” he said. “The fuck would I want to do that for?”

Ian shrugged again. “I don’t know, show a little school pride, and I don’t have anything to do after the game so I figured we could find something to do to pass the time.”

“Last thing I want to be doin’ on a Saturday night is hanging around this place,” he said.

“Whatever, just giving you an option,” Ian said.

“Uh huh,” Mickey said, zipping up his jacket. “See you Monday.”

Ian scoffed a little and shook his head, watching him walk away and out of the bleachers.

Mickey could feel his cheeks getting flushed as he left, his heart pounding in a bizarre way. They were just screwing around so why would he ask him something like that? He tried not to think about it too much.

He wondered whether Mandy and Karen were waiting for him but when he made it to their usual meeting point it was only Karen leaning up against the fence with a cigarette between her lips.

“Where the fuck have you been?” she asked.

“Where the fuck is Mandy? She’s later than I am,” he snapped back as she held out the cigarette for him to take a drag of.

“Detention, told Miss Rawlings to fuck off,” she said.

“Should have smacked her one too,” Mickey said as they started walking. “Think Iggy or Colin used to give her hell and now she takes it out on the rest of us.”

“You saying _you_ don’t give her hell too?” Karen said with a grin.

“Not as much,” he shrugged.

“Whatever, let’s go get something to eat I’m fucking starving,” she said.

“You and your fucking cheese fries,” he said.

“Shut up.”

 

Mickey didn’t think too much of Ian’s proposition, at least until the following night when he looked at the clock and thought about how the game must be almost about to start.

He sat on the couch with one of the game controllers in his hand, idly playing the last game left in the console while Mandy sat and watched from the armchair.

 _You could easily still make it_ , he thought to himself.

He shook his head, it wasn’t even an option.

It might have stayed that way if he hadn’t been so bored sitting around doing nothing but the longer he failed at the same damn level the more he thought it might be worth doing.

“You goin’ out tonight?” he asked and Mandy glanced over.

“Do I _look_ like I’m going out tonight?” she asked.

“What do I care?” he said.

“No, I’m not going anywhere Mick,” she said. “Karen has something on for her mom so she can’t do anything until later anyway.”

He just nodded a little, losing another three minutes of progress on the screen as his character died yet again.

“Wanna go out?” he said, getting up off the couch and walking towards the kitchen.

She raised an eyebrow at him and turned to watch him.

“Go where?”

He shrugged, grabbing his keys off the bench. “There’s a game on if you wanna go watch.”

“A game? What game?”

“Some fuckin’ – down at the school or whatever,” he said, yet another shrug of his shoulders and Mandy just narrowed her eyes in confusion.

“What? That play-off for the basketball team? Why the hell would we go to that?”

“Because it’s better than sittin’ around here like fucking losers all night? I don’t fucking know,” he snapped.

“We _are_ fucking losers,” she said.

“Whatever, you wanna go or you wanna sit around here alone all night whinin’ about how much of a loser you are?”

She rolled her eyes and climbed out of the chair, grabbing her shoes and pulling them on.

“You’re an asshole,” she said as they were walking out the door.

“Takes one to know one,” he said.

 

By the time they had made it down to the gym most people were inside and they could hear the cheers from half-way up the street.

Mickey’s heart was pounding. He was now in the stage where he was regretting coming out but there was no way he would turn back now, especially not when Mandy was with him.

“You ever been to one of these things?” she asked.

“They made us go watch the seniors run their track finals when I was a freshman, they fucking sucked,” he said.

“This is fucking weird, how many people want to spend their night out watching high school basketball?” she said.

“We can always fucking leave,” Mickey said.

“Nah, I’m kinda curious now,” she said as they walked up to the doors to head inside.

The stands were pretty packed out, mostly parents from the other team. That didn’t surprise Mickey at all. Parents in their neck of the woods weren’t exactly known for their parenting skills, more for their lack thereof.

The cheerleaders were on court doing some kind of fire up, the game clearly yet to start. The two of them climbed up the stairs to sit in the back, a few kids from their classes snickered as they passed them.

Mandy found it in her to give one of them the finger, earning her a disapproving tut from one of the nearby parents but she didn’t give a damn about that.

“Jesus, this place is full of fucking assholes,” she said as they sat down at the back.

“Now you know why I hate team fucking sports,” he said.

She scoffed and looked over at him. “Thought it was because everyone pisses you off and they won’t let you do what you fucking want.”

“That too,” he said.

It wasn’t long before the crowd was cheering around them as the teams made their way on court for their warm up. Mickey and Mandy just gave one another a look and stayed quiet in their seats.

Mickey tried to make himself look relaxed but his eyes were trained on the court looking for Gallagher, and he wasn’t easy to miss. His red hair stood out among his team mates and against his seemingly second-hand uniform.

He tried to keep his eyes off him, thinking it was obvious if he looked at him for more than a moment or two, but no one else had noticed.

He saw Ian looking out into the crowd and waving over at a group of people on the other side – likely his family. They all grinned over at him and waved back before he was back into drills again.

“I guess this isn’t too bad,” Mandy said from beside him. “Some of the guys on the other team are kinda hot.”

“What? You not into South Side trash?” he said with a grin and she turned up her nose.

“Maybe if I didn’t know what disgusting assholes they all are,” she said.

“What, you been in all their pants?”

She punched him in the arm and glared at him as he grinned back.

“ _No_ , I’ve just heard them speak,” she said before rolling her eyes. “So I’ve been there with some of them, big fucking deal.”

“Was it?”

“Please, all the guys around here are tiny limp-dicks anyway,” she said and Mickey chuckled to himself, trying not to think about Ian in any more ways than he already was.

It wasn’t long after that the game started up and the crowd was yelling support for their teams. Mickey and Mandy had no idea what was going on or why fouls were getting called but it didn’t matter too much.

Ian was killer on the court, his height a pretty decent advantage. Again Mickey was forced to try not to watch him when the ball wasn’t near him. Mandy wasn’t too attentive tonight but she sure as hell wasn’t blind.

Still, Ian hadn’t noticed him before the break in play and he started the next rotation on the bench. He was watching the game and Mickey was watching him, shaking his head at how quickly Ian had been able to work himself in.

Ian’s eyes looked up to the crowd, just looking at all the faces. Slowly his head turned towards Mickey and a look of surprise washed over him as Mickey cocked an eyebrow at him.

It was as if he was saying ‘proved you wrong, huh’.

A grin spread over Ian’s features and he shook his head, turning back to the game a minute before looking back up at Mickey. He just leant back a little and shrugged as though he wasn’t that impressed and he could see the smile spread as the coach called Ian up to get on court.

It was as if seeing Mickey had sparked something for him, he was going harder, moving faster – he looked like he was playing to impress. Mickey tried to stop himself from laughing, especially when Ian kept shooting him looks.

By the time the game finished Mickey was feeling a lot better than when they had first showed up and Ian kept trying to get his attention subtly as they headed to the change rooms. Mickey just headed out with Mandy.

“Well it actually wasn’t too bad,” she said as they stepped out into the cool air.

Mickey leant against the outside wall of the gym and folded his arms.

“If you’re into sports, our team fucking sucks though,” he said.

“Hey, it was your fucking idea,” she said, giving him a strange look. “Why are you just standing there?”

He shrugged and she rolled her eyes.

“You selling shit for Iggy again?” she asked.

“So what?”

She grunted loudly, “I knew there had to be some reason you wanted to come out. Whatever, I won’t interrupt your dealing.”

She looked at him a moment before holding out her hand and giving him an expectant look. He just rolled his eyes because as much as he wasn’t dealing for his brother – not tonight anyway – he still had a few things on him.

He reached into his pocket and handed his sister a couple of joints and she gave him a grin.

“I knew you were my favourite brother,” she said, taking them from him and then kissing his cheek against protests from Mickey.

“That ain’t saying much,” he called to her and she skipped off. “Have fun banging some ballbag!”

“I will,” she grinned and he chuckled to himself.

She may have to be his favourite sister but she was his favourite sibling regardless.

He waited around, watching the crowds thin out but he didn’t see Gallagher. When other members of the team started heading out to meet their families he finally caught sight of him.

He walked over to his siblings who gave him a consolatory hug and he thanked them for coming down to watch. Mickey saw him look around and after a moment they locked eyes and Ian gave him a grin.

“Hey, I’ll be home later, some of the guys are going to get together and hang out,” he said and his big sister gave him another hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Be safe okay?” she said and he rolled his eyes, waving them off and waiting a few moments before turning to Mickey who was now hanging in the shadow of the building.

“You look pretty shady hanging out over here like this, you know that right?” Ian said as he walked over.

“You don’t know me too well if you think I’m anything but shady,” he said, not moving from his spot.

Ian chuckled, looking down at his feet as he got closer.

“And whose fault is that?” he asked with a raised eyebrow and Mickey just scoffed.

“Whatever, you call that a game?” he said.

“Yeah, yeah, I guess we did suck tonight,” he said. “But hey, we get another shot so…”

“Uh huh,” Mickey said. “So, you just want me to come down here to watch a shitty game or we gonna do something?”

Ian grinned, “Come on.”

As he walked past him Mickey smiled, pushing off the wall to follow him, he didn’t really mind where they were going.


	6. Diving In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will now be updating this series/story here instead of individually - hope you like it from here!

**_Chapter Six:_ ** _Diving In_

The two of them walked around the corner of the building and Ian looked around. Mickey merely gave him a suspicious raised eyebrow.

“The fuck are you doing?” he asked and Ian just turned with a grin.

“Everyone should be out now, I know a back way into the gym,” he said.

“Oh you know a back way huh?” Mickey smirked and Ian rolled his eyes.

“Shut up,” he said, leading them both to a side window. “No one ever locks this one.”

He gave it a firm push and it jolted upwards until it hit the top of the frame, pulling his bag off his shoulder and throwing it inside.

“After you,” he said and Mickey just shook his head.

He put his hands on the frame and pulled himself up and in, kicking Ian’s bag aside a little and turning to watch Ian climb in after him.

He put a finger to his lips a minute and they both listened, Ian walked through the dark to the door and cracked it open slowly.

“Where are we, in the fucking change rooms?” Mickey asked and Ian shushed him.

“Coaches office,” he said.

Mickey nodded to himself, looking around the small room.

“All clear, looks like they just locked up the doors,” Ian said, opening the door to lead them both to the main gymnasium.

“You come here often?” Mickey asked, voice echoing a little in the empty space.

Ian laughed, grabbing his bag and tossing it up onto the bleachers.

“Only when I want a little space,” he said. “Besides, no one else thinks to do it.”

Mickey went and sat on one of the seats in the bleachers, leaning back and watching as Ian stretched out his arms over his head.

“Didn’t think you were going to show up,” he said and Mickey scoffed again.

“Yeah well, last minute decision,” he shrugged.

“Right,” Ian smirked.

Mickey reached into his pocket and pulled out a joint, fumbling around for his lighter. Ian walked over and climbed the first row to sit a few seats away from Mickey.

“You want one?” Mickey asked and Ian shook his head.

“Haven’t had a smoke in a while, doesn’t do so well with sports, you know?” he said.

“Whatever man,” Mickey said, taking a long drag.

“So uh,” Ian said, fidgeting a little with his hands. “You ever done anything like this before?”

Mickey looked over at him with a shrug of his shoulders.

“What? Break into the school gym?” he asked with a sly grin on his face.

Ian laughed to himself.

“No,” he said, looking up and catching Mickey’s eye.

Mickey shrugged again and avoided Ian’s gaze. Ian nodded but continued to look up at him.

“Me too,” he said and this time Mickey looked up.

“You go around sucking guys off under the bleachers often, huh?” he asked and Ian could see that behind his facetious words was genuine curiosity.

Ian laughed gently to himself.

“No not often,” he said as Mickey took a long drag on his cigarette. “Mostly it was in the locker room.”

Mickey exhaled as he stared over at him, two long barrels of smoke streaming from his nose.

“Oh yeah?” Mickey said, leaning back in the stands and staring down intently at his cigarette. “Anyone I know?”

“Oh you’re asking?” Ian asked with an eyebrow raised and a cocky smile.

“Don’t you always go on about not talking and shit?” Mickey said, a hint of annoyance creeping into his voice.

Ian tried not to smile too much, attempting to hide the fact that he was enjoying Mickey’s frustration. It could almost be called jealousy.

Ian shrugged.

“You might know him,” he said. “He doesn’t go to our school anymore, I think he dropped out.”

Mickey nodded a little, electing to take another drag on the cigarette instead of saying anything more so Ian filled in the silence with a name.

“Roger Spikey,” he said and watched as Mickey seemed to suck his lip into his mouth and nod again.

“Spikey huh?” Mickey muttered and Ian just sort of shrugged. “Rumours about him true?”

He was trying to be nonchalant but it wasn’t working at all in his favour.

“Yeah well… they definitely weren’t rumours,” Ian said.

Mickey thought about the rumours he’d heard and then he thought about his own dick and how it must be a poor comparison. ‘ _Definitely’_ Ian had said, definitely not rumours.

He breathed in the last little bit he could get from the cigarette and stubbed out the butt under one of the seats, dropping it down below for someone else to clean up later.

“Not that it matters really,” Ian said, drawing Mickey’s attention back. “He was a total bottom.”

Mickey’s lip was between his teeth again.

“Oh yeah? That a good thing or…?” he said.

Ian looked up and the two of them locked eyes for a moment, neither of them sure what the other was about to say, or how they would feel about it.

“For me?” Ian said finally, bobbing his head a little. “Yeah, yeah, it was a good thing. And for you?”

Mickey shrugged, a little of his usual arrogance slipping back onto his featured.

“Think you already know that one,” he said a little quieter than before.

Ian just watched him without saying anything, the flicker of his heartbeat speeding up.

He got up off the seat and climbed down to the floor, heading over to the bag of basket balls still strung up by the coach’s door and taking one out.

He dribbled it a few times, running down to the ring to do a layout and grinning as the ball made a swishing sound through the net.

Mickey scoffed.

“Now you’re just showin’ off,” he said.

“Is it working?” Ian asked, making Mickey laugh.

“Can’t be too hard preppy boy,” Mickey said, getting up and waking over to meet him on the court.

“Come on then, bring it on,” he said, getting into his defensive pose and bouncing the ball a few times between his feet. “Show me what you got.”

Mickey lunged forward for the ball but Ian’s skills were too good and he dodged him easily.

They goofed off and laughed and Mickey was of course not up to scratch with his skills to beat Ian, but Ian liked to make him think he was doing better than he was.

Mickey had never been one for winning or getting his way fairly so he managed to back Ian into the corner of the court before spear tackling him into the gym mats on the other side.

The ball rolled off towards the bleachers as both boys laughed and Mickey gave him an arrogant grin.

“I think you’ll find that that’s cheating,” Ian said as he looked up at Mickey.

He just shrugged and in a moment Ian was shoving him back and pinning him down so their positions were switched and Mickey rolled his eyes up at him.

“Gotta be on top huh?” he said quietly and Ian’s smile grew wider – if that had been possible.

Ian stared down at him and it was as if all of a sudden the heat between them was magnified.

Mickey felt Ian shift his hips above him and he could all but hear his heart beat speeding up. He felt the shift in his own jeans, the dull throbbing that seemed to be growing by each silent second.

He stared up at Ian’s parted lips, his hand lifting slightly to ball up Ian’s shirt between his fingers.

“Fuck it…” he said, his other hand reaching around to hold tightly to Ian’s neck and pull his mouth down to meet his.

It took Ian by surprise and it took him a moment to adjust to the hardness of Mickey’s lips against him but barely that to know what he wanted to do with them.

He opened his mouth wider to take him in, uttering a moan from low in his throat.

Mickey never thought about this part when he fantasised about being with anyone, never thought that he might want to do it with anyone because it seemed to hold some kind of greater meaning to it. He still wasn’t wholly sure he wanted it now, but the way Ian’s tongue was dragging along his own was detrimental to logical thought.

Ian rolled his hips down, feeling the solid heat in Mickey’s jeans and letting out another low moan, eyes closed as he deepened their kiss further.

He ran his tongue around the rim of Mickey’s lips and Mickey pulled him in closer with the hand behind his neck to bite down on his bottom lip, making Ian grind his hips down into him a few more times.

Mickey’s other hand reached under Ian’s shirt, fingers sliding against his muscular side and down until they were under the waistband of his pants.

Ian pulled his lips away quickly, hovering over him slightly out of breath.

“Shit…” he panted. “I don’t have anything.”

Mickey looked up at him with a raised eyebrow and a confused look on his face.

“I didn’t think you’d show up so… I don’t have anything, for this,” he said and Mickey quickly caught on.

He shrugged a little. “We really need it?”

Ian chuckled to himself as Mickey grinned up at him.

“I’m pretty but I’m not stupid,” he said. “Fuck.”

“I’m sure we can find something else to do,” Mickey grinned and Ian leant in to kiss him.

Mickey put a hand to his chest to push him back and Ian rolled his eyes.

“Thought you were into it,” he said.

Mickey just shrugged again and Ian shook his head, rolling onto his back and getting up off the mat.

“Where you going?” Mickey asked as Ian started walking away.

Ian looked back with a grin.

“Showers,” he said, turning back to the front and walking through the locker room doors.

Mickey lay back for a moment, reaching down to adjust his jeans as he grunted to himself.

_What the hell was he doing?_

There was a tingle over his skin, running over every inch of him. It was an unfamiliar feeling for Mickey. Sure he’d felt the rush that comes with sex, or sex with someone new, not like this.

He got up off the floor and shook his head as he followed the path he’d seen Ian take and unbuttoning his jeans as he did.

He could hear the water from the shower hitting the floor as he walked through the doors to the locker room. Ian looked up at him as he walked in, his shirt already crumpled on the bench and his hands at the waist of his pants.

Mickey stood by one line of lockers looking over at him as he smirked back.

“What?” Ian said with a grin as he pulled down his zipper. “Change your mind?”

Mickey didn’t say anything, he just stayed in his place and leant against the wall and stared over at him.

Ian shrugged, “suit yourself.”

Mickey’s tongue swiped out over his bottom lip as Ian stripped out of the last of his clothes, kicking them to the side before locking eyes with Mickey for a moment and turning back to the running shower.

Mickey’s eyes wandered over the naked plains of his back, down to the gentle curve of his ass above his muscular thighs. He wished he didn’t want it so much, to follow him in and just let go of every reservation he had. He wanted so very much to have the self-control to just turn and walk away from him.

Instead he stripped out of his shirt and began wriggling out of his jeans as he walked across the floor towards him, pausing a moment as he stood behind Ian, skin prickling with the cool air and the flutter in his belly.

Ian stood with his back to him, running his fingers repetitively through his red hair. Mickey looked over him and pulled his lip between his teeth, avoiding Ian’s eyes as he turned to look at him.

Ian reached out to put a hand on Mickey’s hip, waiting for a flinch that didn’t come and pulling him in under the water stream with him.

The feel of his damp skin pressing against him was more than he had imagined and he reached around to dig his nails into Ian’s waist as he pulled him closer.

Ian dipped his head to press his lips against him and then came the flinch he had been waiting for, Mickey pulling his head back without pulling their bodies apart.

Ian reached up to hold the back of his neck, fingers gripping tightly to him as their eyes met for a moment and then Mickey was launching his lips into Ian’s. He took a step back and pulled Mickey with him, parting their lips and taking in a sharp breath as his back hit the cool tiles of the wall.

Mickey smirked, leaning in again with a slow roll of his hips. He could feel Ian’s length growing harder between them and he opened his mouth wider to let Ian’s tongue pass between his lips.

Where it had been fast and hard – the way he liked – it was now slow, every touch lingering longer than it should and the worst part about it was that Mickey actually liked it this way too.

He liked the way Ian flicked his tongue against his, the way he dragged the tips of his fingers down over his spine while the other hand tangled in the short hair on the back of his head. He liked the soft sounds that slipped from his mouth with every scarce breath they could find between the movements of their lips.

Ian only pulled his away to trail them down over his chin and along the side of his neck. Mickey winced with a throaty groan as Ian’s teeth made their mark and he ensured it would last for days, sucking on his pale flesh until it was a deep shade of purple.

He felt Ian’s lips turn to a smile against him.

“Didn’t think you’d let me do that,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, like you fuckin’ asked,” Mickey said, his hand reaching between them.

Ian closed his eyes as he felt Mickey’s fingers wrap around his stiff cock.

“Aren’t you sick of that by now?” he asked between hitching breath.

Mickey worked his wrist faster and scoffed a little.

“You wanna ask for somethin’ why don’t you just ask for it?” he said roughly.

Ian grunted, head leaning back and his fingers gripping tightly to Mickey’s neck and waist.

He looked down at Mickey whose lips were parted just so and he bit down on his lip as he closed his eyes again.

“Suck me off?” he said and Mickey’s hand stilled between them.

He just looked up at Ian, knowing what he had wanted to ask for but not expecting it to sound the way it did coming from his lips. Ian’s eyes flitted open and met with Mickey’s as he gave a little shake of his head.

“If you don’t want―” he began but Mickey rolled his eyes and just pushed him back up against the wall like before.

“Would you shut the fuck up?” he said, digging his teeth into his bottom lip before he was sinking to his knees.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought about it, that wasn’t it _at all_. It was that Ian had surely had someone else in this position before and Mickey was – in terms of blow jobs – quite the amateur, and he didn’t want to admit that.

It was strange, the clashing things he felt all at once. He wanted to be good at it, to make Ian’s toes curl and make his voice hitch in that beautiful way it did when he was about to come, but he also wished that he didn’t want to be knelt in front of him with his own cock hard between his legs at the idea of taking Ian into his mouth.

He knew he should have just stood up and walked out, walked away from the whole god damned thing. If he didn’t want it then he could just go on pretending that it was all just about getting off and it didn’t matter how, but as he took the base of Ian’s length in his hand and the head into his mouth he knew he was well past pretending.

He heard the echoing thud of Ian’s head lightly hitting the wall behind him and the sigh that was surely louder than he had intended as his hands reached down to press onto Mickey’s shoulders. He felt him tighten his hips as he stopped himself from urging them forward and instead digging his nails a little deeper into his skin.

Mickey swirled his tongue around him, still only working on the most sensitive part of him. He wasn’t even sure how to go about the rest of him, there was no way he could take as much of him in as Ian could when he was on his knees.

Still, he bobbed his head over his length taking him a little deeper each time. He could feel Ian’s hips jolt with each movement and when he started to move his hand in time with his mouth Ian lifted his hands to Mickey’s head and took a tight grip in his hair.

“Fuck, oh god… _fuck_ ,” Ian moaned.

Mickey slid his lips down over his shaft again, feeling him deep in his mouth and knowing he couldn’t take him any further. He pulled back a little and urged forward, only this time he swallowed around him making Ian jerk his hips forwards.

Mickey pulled himself back and looked up at Ian with a raised eyebrow.

“You wanna hold back there?” he said.

“Sorry, sorry…” Ian said through heaving breaths. “Don’t stop?”

“Did I say I was done?” he said as he took Ian into his mouth again.

He could feel Ian’s hands guiding his head as it bobbed back and forth over him and as he picked up the pace with his hand he heard Ian’s breathing speed up.

H felt his grip tighten in his hair and Mickey pulled himself back, getting to his feet with two loud cracks from his knees.

“Why’d you―” Ian started but Mickey pushed their hips together and Ian just groaned as Mickey wrapped his hand around him again.

Ian reached between them and took Mickey’s already leaking cock in his own hand and began working him fervently. This time Ian bucked up into his hand, chasing down the feeling that was so close and when he finally let himself go the sound of his euphoric moaning in Mickey’s ear was almost enough to push him over as well.

He batted Ian’s hand away and finished himself off, leaning his head against Ian’s shoulder as he came in hot spurts against Ian’s hip.

Ian seemed to hold him up, arms wrapping around his waist and his lips gentle against his neck until Mickey regained enough functions to hold himself up and push himself away, standing under the shower stream and washing the sex off his skin.

He pretended that he couldn’t see Ian watching him as he turned his back to him but he knew his eyes were on him.

“There a fucking towel in this place?” he said to break the silence.

Ian scoffed quietly, “there’s a locker over there with spares.”

“Whatever,” Mickey said when he finally felt clean.

As he pulled out a towel for himself and a spare for Ian that he tossed on the bench by their scattered clothing he looked over to Ian who was back to running his hands through his hair.

He turned away just as quickly, catching sight of himself in the mirror.

“Jesus,” he said as he walked closer and tilted his chin up to look at the mark Ian had left on him. “The fuck were you trying to achieve with this?”

Ian shut off the water and started to walk over, grabbing the towel as he did.

He chuckled to himself.

“Yeah, guess I went a little overboard, huh?” he said.

Mickey just shook his head without looking up.

Ian walked over to stand behind him, running his hands down over Mickey’s sides.

Mickey flinched, forcing himself up against the edge of the sink.

“Do you really hate it _that_ much when I do that?” Ian asked and Mickey just shrugged.

“Whatever,” he said under his breath and Ian took a chance, moving in again and sliding his hands over Mickey’s waist.

He still flinched, but this time it wasn’t out of his grip.

Ian leaned in to press his lips to Mickey’s neck, the soft touch making Mickey shrug him away. Ian just smile to himself and leant back in grazing his teeth over his skin and sucking another smaller mark just below the first one.

“I take it you like that?” he asked, lips murmuring against him.

“Fuck off,” Mickey said, shoving him away only to turn around and pull him back in.

Ian moaned loudly into their kiss, reaching down to hoist Mickey up onto the edge of the sink and stand between his legs.

Mickey could feel himself getting hard again and he couldn’t help his mind wandering as he felt the heat growing against his hip as Ian leant himself into him.

He gripped his fingers tight in Ian’s hair and pulled him back, staring down at his pink lips and wishing he could ask him for what he wanted but unlike Ian he wasn’t quite so good at that.

Ian used one hand to hold Mickey’s leg up and let the sink take the rest of his weight as he held a finger up to his own lips, slipping it into his mouth and pulling it back out with a wet sheen to it. He eyes Mickey warily as he reached under him, pressing the tip of his finger gently against his rim.

The sound Mickey made was louder than he expected and as Mickey tightened his grip in his hair he managed to grow the words ‘do it’ from between his teeth and Ian slowly slid his finger inside him.

It was too slow and Mickey had seen bigger than his single finger. While spit wasn’t much good as lube for a single digit it would do.

He reached down to grab Ian’s arm, trying to get him to go faster and he seemed to take the hint because it wasn’t long before he was working faster and Mickey was pulling him in to bury his face in his neck.

“ _Harder_ ,” he growled.

Ian complied, curling his finger with each thrust of his hand.

Mickey pressed his lips to Ian’s neck, halfway between kissing him and moaning into him. He found the crook of his jaw and let his teeth leave a mark, not quite as dark as the one that Ian had left on him but enough so that it would last at least a day or two.

“Come on Gallagher, what else you got…” he grunted and Ian chucked.

“You should have told me you were going to show up,” he said, curling his finger over and over and making Mickey groan against his ear.

“Oh yeah?” he said.

“Yeah,” Ian said, pulling his finger out and tilting his face to look at him.

“What, you’re stopping?” he asked and Ian bit down on his lips as he nodded. “Why the fuck’re you doing that?”

Ian looked down at his cock, already hard again and shook his head. He shifted his hips forward and Mickey leant himself back as much as the sink would allow him as Ian pressed the head of his cock to Mickey’s entrance.

“Because if we keep going I am not going to want to stop…” he said.

“Why we gotta stop?” Mickey said, shifting his hips a little and biting hard on his lip at the feel of Ian so close to fucking him.

“You know why,” Ian said. “You should come over, to my place.”

He pulled himself away and leant on one of the neighbouring sinks as he let out a long steadying breath.

Mickey scoffed, letting his feel hit the floor and walking over to his clothes.

“What with your whole fucking family there?” he said. “Don’t think so.”

“They don’t care,” Ian said and Mickey just snorted.

“I ain’t going to your fucking place,” he said.

Ian shrugged, “whatever, I should probably start heading home anyway.”

“Uh huh,” Mickey said as he pulled on his jeans and tucked himself uncomfortably away so he could do up the zipper.

Ian made his way over to his clothes and both boys dressed slowly, Mickey walking out into the main gym once he was done.

He searched his pockets to find another joint and lit it up as Ian came walking out to join him.

“You going to head home too?” Ian asked.

“Maybe,” he said, blowing smoke out through his nose.

“Well where else you gotta be?” Ian asked.

“What’s it to you?”

Ian rolled his eyes and looked up at the ceiling.

“You’re irritating, do you know that?” he asked as he walked over to him, taking the joint from between his fingers and taking a long drag.

“Thought you athletes don’t need this shit?” Mickey said, watching the way his cheeks hollowed out and formed a circle as he blew out the smoke.

“Yeah well, one won’t hurt,” he said.

Mickey went to grab it back from him but Ian pulled it away. Mickey’s eyebrows shot up quickly and Ian reached out to pull him in.

“Don’t think you can just―”

“Do you want it back?” Ian asked with that cocky smile back on his lips.

Mickey huffed out in annoyance and grabbed him roughly by the shirt as he pulled him in for a kiss. As much as Ian may have wanted him to open his lips to make it deeper he didn’t let him, instead maintaining the roughness off it as he shoved him back.

Ian passed him back the joint hand gave him a smile.

“Usual spot on Monday then?” he asked as he started walking back towards the coach’s office.

“Whatever Gallagher,” Mickey said, taking another drag as he grinned back and disappeared from sight.

Whatever it was that they were doing, Mickey was definitely in too deep now.


End file.
